Unknown
by Arigazi
Summary: For all those who liked 'Of Love's Bestowing'. This is the next thing I'll write. Vampires? Werewolves? Or wizards?


**_PLEASE READ THIS PART!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_**

**_SUMMARY-_ First of all, let me say that I WILL be finishing _Of Love's Bestowing_. It is merely a few chapters away from completetion, so I have been putting my thoughts toward the next HP story I would continue with. I have three that I would like to show you. They are all clips of thoughts of mine and they are very rough. I would really like it if you could read through them and pick a favorite that you want me to write, or tell me if you hate them all, so I don't publish something everyone will hate.**

**THANK YOU.**

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**Title:** Bargains

**Short Summary:** A vampire(Draco) is inadvertently saved by a werewolf(Harry) and both men can't decide whether to kill each other or make a truce. Through a few bargains they become tentative friends and head off to Harry's village, but something terrible is about to happen that will force Harry into making a hard decision.

**Relationship:** Harry/Draco, Harry/OFC, others unknown

**Fragment:**

"I'll make you a deal." A blonde vampire spoke, breathing heavily, as he glared at his opponent -a tall shaggy looking brunette with piercing green eyes. At the moment both men stood at a standstill, breathing heavily from their encounter and glaring at each other.

"Deal?" The brunette responded with a quirked brow. "Why would I make a deal with a _vampire_?" He sneered at the thought.

"Because my _word_ is solid. I honor my deals fully. A vampire's word is the strongest pact possible."

"And why is that?"

"Because vampires live for eternity. All we have is our honor in eternity. It means a great deal to us." The blonde spoke honestly, causing the brunette to let down his guard slightly and stand in an erect pose.

"So, vampire, what is it that you could possibly want from a werewolf?" He asked with a tilt to his head, not unlike a curious dog.

The vampire smirked at him. "In the olden days vampires and werewolves lived in harmony-"

"I don't need a fucking history lesson, vampire!" The brunette snapped with an aggravated snarl.

"Shut up!" The vampire hissed back sharply. The werewolf growled deeply in the back of his throat, but lowered his head slightly and took a step back, as if preparing for an assault. The vampire sighed and raised his hands in a peaceful sign of surrender. "Listen to me. I'm not going to harm you. I want to make a pact with you. Like I was saying before you got angry with me -vampires and werewolves used to be at peace with one another. During the day, werewolves would guard vampires from harm, and during the night vampires would return the favor by bringing query to werewolves and guarding them on the full moon." The vampire frowned slightly. "On a full moon like the one two nights from now."

The werewolf growled again, then looked around at the dead bodies of the hunters that had been after the vampire and would now be after him as well. He would be more vulnerable on the full moon, even with his accelerated strengths. It was hard to fit in with a crowd when one was seven feet tall and covered in fur.

"What exactly would this entail me to do for you, and what about during every other night of the month that I don't need you?" He asked in acquiescence.

The blonde smiled a true smile. "It will be your time to do whatever you wish, if you don't want to hunt with me, that is."

"I can understand the amiability in a way, but I don't see why a vampire would _ever_ desire to hunt with a werewolf." The brunette snorted and stalked a few steps closer to his new companion. "I shall need a salary of some sort."

The blonde quirked his head and smiled again. "I don't imagine you'll have a place to put any kind of weekly salary I give you since we'll be traveling all over the world to escape capture and identification."

The werewolf's eyes narrowed. "Traveling?" He growled. "I'm to be your coachman?"

"No. I have human slaves for that. Your only mission is to guard me and keep me safe until nightfall." He clarified. "Will that be a problem?"

"No." The werewolf shook his head. "But you'll have to put up with my wife."

The vampire groaned audibly and looked to the sky as if to ask what he had done to deserve this. "A woman?" He queried lowly.

"Yes." The werewolf's eyes narrowed yet again.

They had a glaring contest for the better part of five minutes before the vampire gave in. "Fine. I'll allow this… woman… and if you should desire money at some point or another on our journeys, then you can have it then. Is that satisfactory for you?"

"Yes." The werewolf smiled a moment and the vampire was taken aback. How handsome this man looked with a smile adorning his green eyes.

"Let's go get this woman then. We have to be back to my home by sunrise." With that said they both turned and began walking toward a village a few miles away from their position in the middle of a forest, with the werewolf navigating by the stars and his sense of smell.

"So what's your name, anyway?" The brunette asked as he looked at his companion, still a bit untrustworthily.

"Draconis Lucian Malfoy." The blonde answered easily. "And yours?"

"My real name is Harry Potter, but I go by the name 'James', which is my middle name because all of the bounties are after the werewolf named Harry Potter."

"So what am I to call you then?"

"James is fine." The werewolf told him calmly before he took another sniff at the air near a wide old elm tree. "We're within my territory." He announced before continuing to walk. "Those bounty hunters attacked you just outside of where I usually hunt. It wasn't my territory; you're lucky I was out farther than usual this night."

"How do you know?" Draconis asked as he looked around at all the other wide average looking elm trees. "Where your territory is, that is?"

"In my werewolf form I piss on all these trees to show dominance and territory against any intruders." He answered swiftly.

The blonde briefly sniffed near the tree as well. When he turned back to James the man was looking at him oddly.

"Just putting it in the memory banks in case you decide to piss on any trees in the future that I should know about."

James didn't really know if that was necessary, but he let it go and kept walking.

"So how do we seal this pact of ours?" He wondered as he looked over the injury on his shoulder he'd sustained from fighting one of the men that had intruded on his territory earlier that night to trace down Draconis. "Is it already sealed?" He asked stopping in his tracks to stare at Draconis again. "I don't want to bring you to my wife, then find out you're not promising her protection as well."

The vampire sighed heavily. "In the olden days the deal was always sealed with blood." He answered easily. Just as the werewolf was about to protest, the vampire continued. "Let me explain. I get a taste of your blood and I give you a vile of my blood, which will ward off any other vampires you may come across that wish you harm."

"How will your blood ward them off?" James asked curiously.

"I am a very powerful vampire among my kind. Any who dare defy my… uh, anyone who pisses me off, I am lawfully allowed to kill." He finished. James wondered what the vampire had been about to say, but then again it was probably something James didn't want to hear, or the vampire would have said it.

"So these vampires smell your blood and… it smells different than all the rest?"

"Fresh vampire blood, which is anything younger than two centuries will have a distinctly mortal smell to it. It smells vampiric, but young. Blood that is older than half a millennia has no lingering mortal smell. You are an ancient if you live past that time and have more say over things. If you're older than a millennia then you can kill other vampires legally without retribution, meaning no Childe or lover of theirs has a right to stake a claim against me for killing their vampire no matter what."

"How old _are_ you?" James queried with a scrunched brow.

"Three millennia." Was the answer.

"By the gods." He murmured in horror.

"Do you want to complete the pact here?" Draconis asked the werewolf, stepping closer to him with a smile that showed his fangs.

James didn't back down or flinch at all. "No. We'll see what my wife thinks of you. She can always tell a liar a mile away."

Draconis sneered. "Is she Lycan as well?"

"Yes." James murmured with a sigh his eyes flying to the ground as he turned to continue walking.

"Did you change her?" Draconis asked more patiently as he went to keep pace with the werewolf.

"No. We were attacked together. She was bitten first and I fought off the beast as best I could. I had nearly gotten rid of it before the damned thing grabbed my arm between its teeth and infected me as well."

"How long ago was that?" For the life of him, the blonde couldn't seem to figure out why he gave a damn about this werewolf. It was merely his new bodyguard. The thing would be dead in a few years and he'd find another one like he'd been doing for centuries. Why was this one special? Why was this one different?

James shrugged. "She keeps track. She likes to remember how old we really are compared to how old we should be. Lycans, I guess, have a longer lifespan from what she's read about them."

"If you had to take a guess at how old you are…?"

"Er, I'd say about… fifty, maybe more. It's been forty years that we've been married and we were changed after only two years or so, and we were nearly twenty when it happened, so maybe sixty. I'm not sure."

Draconis nodded once.

"Alright, Fang Boy, how about you?"

The blonde knew what his companion wanted, but sharing facts about ones death was very different and more intimate than sharing facts about a bite.

James glared at him, as if sensing his thoughts.

"If you think it isn't as traumatic to be bitten, then you're wrong." He growled. "Not knowing what's coming after you… thinking you're going to die watching your wife die… you've barely just lived, life shouldn't stop yet…only to find out that you'll live, oh yes, you'll live -live to change into a monster once a month, sometimes twice, and be cursed to kill people for their sweet taste." James glared sidelong at the vampire. "You and I aren't so different in that aspect, so don't you dare tell me that dying is worse than what I've been through because you can just kiss my ass; you're never going to win that argument."

They walked on in shocked silence as they debated their own pasts and issues.

"You're not going to win this argument." Draconis informed his companion.

"Oh, and why is that so?"

"You are a monster only twelve days a year. I am a monster for all of eternity." The blonde answered, frowning. "You seek out humans once a month, and I desire them every moment I am remotely near them."

The werewolf sneered. "You know nothing about my kind."

"What do I not know?" The vampire asked with a raised brow.

James glared at the blonde for a while, sizing him up before he snorted softly and ignored the other man. "You wouldn't understand." Just as the vampire was about to protest about such nonsense (A three-millennia-old vampire not being able to understand… sheer nonsense!) James spoke again. "At least not yet. Perhaps once you grow to know my wife and myself, then you will one day understand that the monster is never dormant inside us."

The blonde's mouth opened to speak.

"Draconis." James' eyes squinted and he looked like he'd eaten something sour as he spoke the name.

The vampire scowled at him dangerously. "Yes? Mutt?"

"Does everyone call you 'Draconis'?"

"Most -if allowed to speak my name- speak it with far more respect-"

"I'll take that as a 'yes'." James interrupted before the blonde could finish with an insult. "For three millennia you went on being called such a long name? Did no one give you a nickname?"

"I am not on good terms with people who would deplore my name by-"

"How about Draco?" The werewolf wondered curiously.

The vampire was immediately about to burst with outrage at this lack of respect for someone of his age and stature, but… the name sounded perfect rolling off of James' tongue. He'd never thought to change or shorten his name at all. Draco did sound more… fashionable for this era. He cracked a smile as he glanced at James.

"I suppose that isn't too terrible. As long as that is the only thing you call me. You can't shorten it further." He ordered without being firm at all.

"That's fine, Draco." James murmured.

Draco sighed with relief somehow. This night wasn't turning out too bad considering he had been almost killed by the light as soon as he'd risen and had several hunters on his tail, chasing him nearly to his doom with fire. If the werewolf hadn't put out the fire to keep his forest from burning… he wasn't sure where he'd be now, but things were turning out rather well.

"How much farther to your home?"

"It's just…" James stopped suddenly and began sniffing the air with a frightened expression crossing his face. "No…" A tear fell from his eye and Draco was completely taken aback. "Blood… fire… death…"

As a breeze blew through the trees, Draco smelled all of those things as well. Perhaps two miles away there was the smell of death.

James took off at a run and Draco did as well, so as not to lose the wolf, though he'd eventually find him again at the village.

(Before anyone asks, or complains about me calling him James... 'Harry' - his real name - is more of pet name in this story - sort of like a privelege for someone else to be able to call him that, you know? Like they have to earn the right to call him that.)

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**Title:** The Hogwarts

**Summary:** Orders are sent down to the shipping yard to have a ship made ready to sail to find a 'New World'. Had the sailors had a proper seer around, then they would never have set out for this new place. They get caught in a deadly storm and wreck on an island full of a new breed of killers they had never seen before - something called 'werewolves'. The real story behind this is between a certain Captain Potter and Prince Remus, who has recently been told a ship of men is approaching, but before Remus could prepare his people for attack, the seer told him his mate would also be on board this ship.

**Relationship:** Remus/Harry

The Hogwarts

Prologue:

"Discover the New World. Claim it in the name of our great king." The mousy man spoke in hushed tones. He looked anxiously around, his eyes darting from corner to corner –not wanting to be discovered, or his treachery to the crown would mean his hanging.

"What if the World should already be inhabited by… ruffians?" The snake-eyed man hissed back with implications littering his voice as he talked to the nasty little steward before him.

The steward paused, with an evil glint in his eye and a dismissive quality to his cold voice. "Dispose of whatever… _things_ you happen upon." He paused again. "Remember, Governor Riddle, this is your last opportunity to redeem yourself. There is no future for you without success." He reminded coldly.

Riddle growled lowly, but nodded and left the private conference room. He bowed to the long-bearded king as he passed him by in the corridor, then rushed on to order a crew for the voyage to the New World.

"The best of the best." The snarky man snapped to the shipyard manager. "By order of Governor Riddle!" He banged his fist down on the counter –losing his mask of calmness for a moment- when the harbor master began staring off into space as he pet his tabby cat Mrs. Norris affectionately. She was his best companion in the dark rat-infested port.

Upon hearing the name of the corrupt Governor Riddle, the man flinched –realizing the implications of death to himself and dismemberment to everything he'd ever worked to achieve in his port- and became attentive.

"How large a crew does this call for?" He asked shakily.

"One hundred men. They will sail on the ship: Hogwarts. Have the ship ready for a three month sail."

"I will need a month to…"

"You have two weeks to ready the ship for departure." The snarky, black-haired man snapped; his greasy hair hanging in his face, and making his crooked nose look even larger than abnormal.

Men began boarding the ship as others signed in with the shipmaster. Cargo was being loaded on the ship, _and what a ship it was_!

The Hogwarts!

Eight levels to the ship. The deck was the ground floor. Cannons lined each side, with a thick sturdy banister surrounding the ship. At the head of the ship was a stout length of beam that stuck out from the Hogwarts like a horn on the forehead of a unicorn, in all its regal glory. At the stern of the ship there was some six steps up to the helm, with the glorious gold-inlaid wheel set nearly as tall as most men. Above were sails of such grandeur they were perhaps thirty men tall and twenty men wide. There were seven different sails of varying sizes. A birds-nest sat firmly around the tallest mast. Rope ladders were strewn from all angles, leading to the arms of the ship.

Men climbed along all the ladders, preparing the sails. Sailors raced up and down the steps to the lower galleys with boxes of food and barrels of water and wine, along with a few of their own possessions.

The cook waddled on deck with a crooked cap on his head and a large rucksack over his shoulder. He snorted at a cabin-boy's greeting as he made his way down to the third floor kitchen and mess hall.

As the final preparations were made to the Hogwarts, the men stood watching as younger –less experienced- sailors waved to their families, and kissed their children before loading themselves.

A redhead strode across the boat to his dark-haired friend Dean.

The man's only acknowledgement of his friend's presence was his statement of anguish:

" 'The best of the best'." Dean sneered as he watched a younger boy named Creevey trot by. "_Buffoons_!" He corrected sharply, with malice in his voice. "Most of them have probably never sailed a boat this big." He groaned in irritation.

"Ai." The redhead agreed with a nod. "Bloody brilliant idea to have old Filch recruit all the scalawags!" He declared with sarcasm thick in his tone. "Hardly a decent man aboard this ship."

" 'Sides us." Another voice added. They turned to see their shipmate Seamus walking toward them. All three men had been sailing together for nearly seven years, and had seen their fair share of pathetic sailors… _hell_, they had _been_ those pathetic people before, but had bettered themselves thanks to the best captain in all the magical world.

"Makes you wonder what the captain will be like." Dean reminded and they all cringed at the thought of having to follow some pathetic captain that could never measure up to their old captain.

"What're you lazy warts doin' just standin' 'round?! I thought I taught you better than that!" Said-captain approached the ship at a steady gait, his bag thrown over his shoulder, his long black mass of hair reached his shoulder blades and was in dire need of a cut. A light beard was growing along his chin, but it wasn't much. All in all, he looked rather rugged and jaunty.

He jumped onto some rather high crates, climbing with an astonishing grace until he was nearly as high as the Hogwarts, then with one great leap he was aboard the Hogwarts -avoiding the mass of people obstructing the gangplank with supplies for the ship- and at the helm.

"You're comin' along too?" Dean asked gleefully.

" 'Course!" Their captain laughed. "Do you honestly think you could navigate the oceans to this 'New World' without me along?"

They laughed.

"Actually, Captain, we're bit more worried 'bout the natives we'd find there, rather than the sea storms." Seamus replied with a smile. He felt the weight of fear lift from his shoulders; nothing would happen to this crew as long as Captain Potter navigated it.

"Ron!" The captain shouted to the redhead as he leaned against the wheel casually, a hand on his hip and a cocky smirk across his face. "Ah, my first mate. Never a ship to be sailed without you with me, mate." Ron straightened up with pride from his captain's words. "Check the preparations. Let's try and get out of here before the tide leaves!" He left to obey his orders. "Dean, good to see you again. How's that son of yours?"

"Wants to be a blacksmith, or a sailor like his old man!" Dean stated proudly as he stroked his growing whiskers with amusement.

"Fine. Definitely a true Thompson! Take the rookies and show them _what-for_! I won't have incompetent sailors on my ship!" He paused as he turned to his other taller friend and looked him over. "Seamus, wasn't Lavender expecting last we were together?"

"Yes, I'm the proud father of a beautiful baby girl named Elizabeth."

"Oh, bloody hell, man! Congratulations! You'll invite me to her First Year celebrations, won't you?"

"Absolutely." Seamus replied firmly, with a grin; his accent shining through.

"Alright, Seamus, ready the men. Governor Riddle should be arriving momentarily."

There were groans among the crew, but Seamus saluted his captain and went about gathering the crew for his captain's inspection. The governor would glance over the men, but the captain went through them to learn every last name to every man on his crew.

Within ten minutes all the men were assembled on deck in four rows of twenty –all the men that had actually showed up for this expedition. (Filch would pay for his incompetence when the governor finds out… and he will.)

Harry stalked across the rows of men a few times. He paced back and forth as he looked their faces over, evaluating several of the promising looking ones. Here and there he would ask for a specific name, but mostly he wanted to get the ship up and running. All he needed now was his customary speech to make them all feel at ease, yet tense, and he could be done with it all.

"My prince!" A very old woman with a crooking back and a wrinkled, worn face, went chasing after her evasive prey.

Across a great expanse of mountainous forests dashed the handsome, graceful form of a man.

Again the aging woman called to him as he leapt up a particularly large root that jutted out of the ground nearly ten feet up and swooped down again toward the earth for nourishment.

The man stood atop this root and sighed heavily. He turned reluctantly to look at the approaching old hag who he had been running from. As gracefully as his weary form would allow, he plopped down on one of the legs of the large roots that surrounded the tree and he let the tree cradle him in his nest.

The old woman came into view from the ground beneath the root. She scowled disdainfully up at him.

"My prince." She spoke with scorn in her tone. He made no move to acknowledge her existence. "_Remus_!" She used his name in such a way that he shivered involuntarily with a prickle of worry for what she might do. Nevertheless, he remained outwardly calm.

"Sibyll." The tawny-haired man replied tartly; seeming exhausted as he glanced down to make sure his tormentor was still there, and he hadn't been simply having a nightmare.

"I hailed you earlier, my prince." She remarked, still frowning.

"Yes, Sibyll, you did." He nodded once uncaringly.

"My prince, do you understand what I have been trying to tell you for the past several hours?"

He shook his head in a leisurely manner.

"_Intruders_!" She shouted, exasperated. Remus definitely heard her. He was so startled by her loud reply that he fell off the root he'd been resting on. "Men are coming to Maea!" She told him firmly. "I have seen it!"

Ah, yes. Sibyll was a Seer. Not a very good one, mind, but when she was _this_ serious, he knew that it had been a valid vision.

Remus became rigid. "How many, would you wager?" He asked sternly. She seemed satisfied that he was finally taking her seriously, and she relaxed a bit, but only slightly. If Men were coming, then a battle would be fast approaching.

"It was a large boat that I saw, my prince. I could not guess a number so high. My own boat had only held fifteen people on it. I have been on no boat larger than that." She told him, a frown wrinkling her brow.

Sibyll, the Seer –or so she called herself. She was one of the few humans around Maea who were allowed to live among the werewolves, unharmed. She had been one of three survivors of a terrible shipwreck just off the shores of Maea's largest bay.

It had been the day after a particularly long full moon, and everyone was quite irritable. The old informal-ruler of the Maea werewolves had been named Hagrid. He had been a half-giant, and quite gentle in his rulings, though all knew he would be able to tear any of them to shreds if ever he were bitten and made what they were, so none dared to try and attack him.

Hagrid had been the one wandering the shores of the bay when he'd seen the shipwreck victims sprawled across the beach. He'd brought all three of them back to the pack that he stayed with. Remus was a part of that pack. Hagrid had ordered that the humans were to remain untouched, and so it went for two days, that no one but Hagrid tended to the humans. When they finally awoke they had been worried about there whereabouts, but more worried about how to leave. Hagrid had been sensible enough to insist that they stay in Maea. It would not bode well for others to learn of Maea. It was a small continent covered in shrouds with weather so horrifying that it would make any seaman turn the other direction. For that reason, few people ever came and no one ever left Maea.

There had been two women and one man of the three. The man had insisted on leaving and had been killed by two guards who were a bit overzealous, but not sorry for their actions. The other two were older women. One was Sibyll. The other had been a woman that had not given her name and had died after three days of refusing both drink and food. Sibyll was the only one to remain, and it was only because of her powers –no matter how sporadically they worked- that she still lived with the werewolves.

Remus was just as worried as she was over this vision. "How long ago was it that you _saw_ this… boat?"

"Four days ago." She told him softly.

He could not be angry with her. She lived in a tree home the werewolves had built, high up in a very old oak tree, to keep her as far away from them –yet still near enough to call upon- as possible. The older woman could not maneuver as well as she used to be able to. It is not hard to believe that it would take her so long to be able to get down, then finally find Remus and discuss these things with him. 

He smiled at her gently. "You do not have to live up there, you know?" He told her sweetly. She was a nuisance most of the time, but she was still an elder, and his father had brought him up to be kind to his elders, as he would one day like the same treatment.

She smiled at his kindness for a moment, then sighed heavily. "What will you do?"

"When will they arrive?" He asked curiously as battle plans spun through his head.

"I have no idea. The vision concentrated on three main things. The first was, of course, the ship and it's magnitude. The second was on this terribly ugly man with the eyes of a deceptive snake and a hideous presence surrounding him. He was definitely evil. It radiated off of him like the scent of a person shows itself to you." She used the analogy and Remus growled deeply in his throat. He didn't like the sound of this evil. It definitely signified the beginning of a heated fight with these Men.

He swam in his thoughts of the upcoming fight until he suddenly remembered that Sibyll had stopped talking. He looked up to her, with ever patient eyes again.

"And what, dear lady, is the last thing this vision concentrated on?" He wondered, trying to be as gentle as possible as his werewolf instincts kicked into battle mode.

"Ah!" She exclaimed, as if just coming back to herself as well. She smiled up at Remus, her face crinkling and her eyes twinkling beautifully as if she were remembering the fondest of memories. Suddenly, her face fell into confusion though. "That is what has had me perplexed, my prince." He growled at the title. He had been trying for years to get her to call him by his given name, but to no avail, so he decided not to protest. He just wanted her to go on and explain this vision thing. "The last concentration of my vision was of a handsome man. His presence glowed with power, but it was not evil. It was a warm presence. The snake-eyed man had seemed to be the leader of them all at first, but then I saw this green-eyed man and…" She seemed to glow, as if she had fallen in love with this beautiful vision of a man she had dreamed up.

"Sibyll." He reminded flatly.

"Of course," She spoke, coming back to herself again, "you say my name like that because you did not experience his presence." She shivered for a moment, and he saw the hairs on her arms raise and she rubbed them away –her cheeks flushing. "In my vision, he seemed to look directly at me, as if he could sense my presence looking upon his form." She seemed worried for a moment.

"Has this not happened to you before? Perhaps he is merely powerful." Remus suggested.

"His power I do not doubt, but no… as many powerful beings as I have seen, this one… none of them have _ever_ looked _at_ me in my vision." She sighed heavily. "I do not fear him though. When he looked at me he seemed only curious, not angry. He was steering the ship as if he were the captain, and just before the vision ended… he winked at me." The Seer declared softly.

Remus was shocked for a moment, but quickly regained his composure. He winked?

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**Title:** The Mysterious Man

**Summary:** A very premiscuous Draco is avoiding his mother when he happens upon a ban of men that have just been disbanded from a meeting. At the center of this gaggle of men is the most gorgeous creature Draco has ever seen. And now to ensnare this man to his will and bed!

**Relationship:** Harry/Draco

The Mysterious Man

The room was so cramped. It was terrible. Some kind of prison that couldn't be escaped. At least… not without having to attend that horrible ball his parents had planned. Every once in a while his mother would plan some form of entertainment for the high-society of Hogwarts (Should it be called Hogsmeade or something else). Only the purest of blood would attend.

At first, when he had been younger, these balls had been more fun; he could trick the adults and play games on them to test their sanity. Now, he had to be proper. He had to dress formally and acknowledge his peers and let his father run his life.

He was a teenager and he couldn't even pick his own wife. His father had told him not to mess around with anyone at all, lest he face the dire consequences. He was allowed to go as far as he wanted without losing his virginity and becoming a 'whore'. His father had made it perfectly clear that he could have as many mistresses as he wanted _after _he had married and had a healthy child. He had asked his father if the man wanted him to be completely unhappy in life by doing this to him and Lucius had responded that marriage was not always about love; it was mostly about good breeding so that only the best children were produced for future generations. When the young blonde heir had argued on, his father had declared that he and his wife had married for propriety, not for love, but in time they had come to love and respect each other, and _that_ was the way Lucius, his father, had claimed it would be with him.

He had tutors and study time, swordsmanship practice and archery classes, along with etiquette training and, now that he was old enough, he had to sit in on stupid government meetings and law information/description classes with his father's advisors -perhaps even his father if the man wasn't busy doing something of political importance.

Most meetings were attended at the royal palace, the Ministry, or, if absolutely necessary, the only school in Hogwarts run by some quack named Dumbledore.

"Draco." A female voice called from the outside of Draco's door. The young wealthy blonde teen sitting at his window sighed as he turned away from the wintry scene outside his window to look at the thick heavy door that kept him from the rest of the world -or, more like, kept the rest of the world away from him.

Draco wanted to shout at the woman and tell her to bugger off, but that wouldn't cure him of the inevitable. Today he was to turn another year older. Downstairs in the main ballroom, a very great collection of cooks and decorators were getting everything ready for a celebration that would rival that of any other.

"Your mother requests your presence in the main ballroom." The voice continued in a pleasant tone as it filtered through the door again. The youth couldn't remember the maid's name, or whether he'd accosted her in the halls yet… she could be a new one. His father usually got rid of the ones he'd done things to when he found out about them.

"I hear you." He responded dryly and heard her heels retreating down the hall to continue whatever work she had to accomplish before the late afternoon when the party would begin and not end until late morning. "That doesn't mean I'll listen though. Malfoy's don't have to listen to anyone. "

Draco Malfoy was young, blonde, gorgeous, aristocratic… utterly bored with life.

He had everything.

The man could snap his fingers and have anything… anyone he wanted. There was no one in Hogwarts that was unobtainable to him. He'd already hunted down all the worthy prey he could find without any fight. They all wanted him. They all wanted a piece of a Malfoy -not that he would ever give anything to them with his father's warning hanging over his head and his own sense of dominance to think about. The Malfoy's were very rich -probably the richest in Hogwarts with less than one exception at the most, if that. The Malfoy's weren't royalty by any means, but they were the top of the food chain. With all of their connections and investments, they were _definitely_ the top of the hierarchy of Hogwarts.

What a waste of time! Draco thought with a great deal of frustration as he walked down the hall from his private staircase toward the main hall.

The blonde paused as he heard the sound of heels clicking against tile up ahead. This wasn't the sound of a nurse, or attendant, or his mother -no, this was much more powerful. He hadn't heard this gait before. He could usually tell who was approaching him from behind by the sound of the person's walk. It freaked out the people he knew when he acknowledged their presence without them saying a word to him.

Draco walked slowly to the end of the hall and peaked around the edge to see who was coming toward him.

Oddly enough, it was a group of men, not women that were approaching him through the hall.

Politicians. Draco thought with a sneer. His father must have just let out his last meeting of the day or some such nonsense. But why would an ordinary politician wear heels?

Just as Draco was about to walk out through the hall and right through the stupid group of losers -causing them to disperse in fear of his beauty and power- he noticed a younger man; probably the youngest of them all. The man was at the center of this clique -all men talking faster than most could think, seeming completely enraptured with whatever this young green-eyed Adonis was telling them. He was startling, with his green eyes, thick black hair, and tanned skin. He wore a suit of all manners of leather -quite startling indeed- and worn black knee-high, dragon hide, heeled boots that hit the tile floor with powerful purpose, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. A long thick cloak of a silky looking material he couldn't recognize was slung over his shoulder, but too short to reach the floor at his height, though it still looked quite capable of keeping him warm. (Invisibility cloak when worn the other way.)

How was he so entranced with only one glance? He had just looked to this person for one moment and now he could barely move his eyes away from this man's face.

The group came up to and passed the hallway he was hiding behind.

Hiding? Was he hiding now? A Malfoy? The one who was afraid of nothing and no one was _hiding_? With that in mind, Draco breathed in deeply, stood up straight and began to walk up behind this crowd, aiming his strut for the one in the middle.

"Draco!" A voice called down the hall from behind the blonde. He turned angrily, only to drop his face into an emotionless mask as he saw his mother standing impatiently at the doors near the end of the hall that led to the ballroom they would be celebrating in later. He couldn't go to her though. He had to see this man again. As he turned, hearing those heels so much farther away now, he wished only for a fleeting glance with those mysterious green eyes.

How the fates favored him at the moment!

Apparently, his mother's call had attracted the attention of the crowd of men. They all stopped for a moment to look back at the blonde man who had been following them. It was Draco's black-haired favorite that had chosen to connect with his gaze as he simultaneously continued to keep walking, causing his hair to glide over his eyes in the sexiest pose Draco had yet to see on any creature.

Dear gods! What a heaven-sent beauty! He thought with a peaceful air floating about him as he gazed adoringly at the man that now turned once again to continue out the Malfoy Manor. _I will have you._ Draco thought fiercely. _You will not escape me, my sweet._

He thought with a peaceful air floating about him as he gazed adoringly at the man that now turned once again to continue out the Malfoy Manor. Draco thought fiercely. 

Draco approached his destination with a new sense of determination. He would see this new man again at this party -at _his_ party- and at _his_ party he could ask any favor he wished to of his new interest.

The young blonde considered his father's words as he thought back to earlier that day, after he had watched that… man… leave.

"Mother!" He called to the woman that was merely a smaller version of her son. Between both of his parents, Draco was a pretty decent median. He had his mother's slimmer figure, yet still had the shape of a man in muscle and height. He had the nose of his father with the high cheek bones of his mother. He had the brilliant blonde hair of his father that was so soft a golden color that it almost appeared abnormal; white. Then there was the smooth, pale complexion of his mother that brought a beauty to him that hadn't been seen in the Malfoy line for generations -according to Draco's grandfather on his father's side. The only thing that was completely mixed with both parents was his eyes. A soft ocean blue seeming almost crystalline, that shined like mercury when he was angry. Deep eyes so powerful they could envelope anyone in only moments. The façade of a stone mask as a face, that hardly showed emotions, and only then through the eyes… but that was rare to most that didn't know the Malfoy line.

"Draco." His mother returned with a frown. She felt it more powerful to show her emotions rather than hide how angry she is, and -Merlin bless the woman, however she manages it- she somehow kept her anger from causing her frown lines on her perfectly smooth face. "I called for you several hours ago." She scolded quietly.

The youth walked steadily up to his mother and smiled slightly in her direction as he glanced around for eavesdroppers.

"I know. I never said I would come down, though."

She scowled at him and he decided it was best to press on, rather than dwell on the past.

"Mother, do you recognize those men?" Draco gestured gracefully with his left hand toward the entrance hall that was now only full of the remnants of a few men.

"Yes, of course." She nodded with a small smile. "If you had attended your father's meeting earlier like I'd called you for, _you_ would recognize them as well. Those are his associates."

Draco narrowed his eyes with silent fury -some aimed at himself for not attending, some aimed at his mother for her continuous scolding. He was old enough to do as he wished -including ignoring her requests.

"I know they are his associates. I was wondering if you knew all of their _names_." He responded sharply.

Though she was a strong woman, Narcissa, his mother, had promised herself that she would allow her son more freedom in his life. After all, he was becoming a man now, and men weren't ordered around by women, though they still were by their mothers, even in old age. She nodded her head to her son as she gave in to his argument.

"I do know most of them, but not all. Who were you curious of?" She questioned without trying to seem like she was being prying.

"No one." Draco frowned at her. He didn't want to let her know anything anymore, she had gotten on his nerves and he was a _very_ stubborn person.

She sighed in defeat. "Very well."

"Will they all be attending the ball as well?" He asked dully, as if bored with the topic now. His mother eyed him oddly for a moment before determining that he really didn't care at all.

"Probably not all of them. If they care at all about their status in our society, then they shall attend, but that green-eyed one is new. I don't know if he'll show."

Draco was about to become defensive, but that would give him away and his mother probably had that planned with him. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of such a thing. He shrugged. "I saw no one with green-eyes. What an oddity! I haven't seen a man with green eyes since I was a child and that red-haired woman came to visit you for some reason hanging on the arm of that relative of yours. Black, was it?"

"Yes." She nodded in failure without giving away her disappointment as she accidentally fell into her thoughts.

It was always a game with these men! She could never ask a straight question of either of them and get a straight answer in return. You had to be cunning in the way you asked, so as not to give anything away whilst also being able to pick apart what they said in return so that you could get your answer without them actually saying it aloud. She had hoped her son would at least say in return, 'I was not interested in the green-eyed one anyway.' It would have at least hinted that her son had _noticed_ the young man who had also caught her eye as he passed.

Narcissa knew him… in a way. Her cousin, the man Draco had spoken of a moment before, was Sirius Black, and he had come a few years before to speak with her and he had brought his best friend's wife, the lady with the red hair and green eyes. If Narcissa was not mistaken, then this man that had graced her husband's debate room was the son of that woman -whatever _her_ name had been. It was the name of a flower… or something. So many years ago… damn… was she really getting _that_ old that she could reminisce like this?

"_Mother_!" The young blonde grabbed her arm rather fiercely to get her attention and Narcissa finally pulled out of her thoughts.

"You were saying?" She queried calmly, though her heart raced from being startled like that.

Draco frowned at her. "I am going to prepare for this celebration." He told her with a frown, speaking slowly, as if thinking his mother might not understand. "Are you well? Must I call you a nurse?" He was being cold in his questions, but Narcissa could tell he meant well in his worry for her.

"Of course not!" She exclaimed as she pulled a small fan from her sleeve and began fanning herself elegantly. "Perhaps you should speak to your father later about his meeting." She meant it in the way that 'if you won't speak to me, maybe it's a "man thing" and you would rather speak with your father'. "He probably wishes to discuss the results of it with you eventually."

Coy as ever. Draco thought with a small smile. His mother didn't know the reasoning behind his interest, but she would try to help her only son any way possible, even if he himself didn't want the help.

"My thanks, Mother. I shall do that." He nodded a goodbye to her before turning to return to his room.

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**PLEASE READ:**

**_A/N: Please tell me which, if any, you would like me to expand and continue with. These may all seem choppy and odd sounds, but that is because they are only fragments of chapters. I don't have much written, and I will only expand on which is most liked. If several are well like I will make them stories after the one is done. If none are liked, then I will be a silent author for a while, but hopefully I will come up with something pleasing soon._**


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